


Good Night, Sleep Tight

by RainingInExile



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Drabble, Fluff, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-01
Updated: 2015-02-01
Packaged: 2018-03-10 00:00:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3269138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RainingInExile/pseuds/RainingInExile
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eames has an unexpected visitor after a night out with the team.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Good Night, Sleep Tight

Eames opens his hotel door in boxers, a good bit more sober than he was a half hour and a glass of water ago, to find Arthur standing in the hallway.

He wonders for a moment if Arthur is here to kill him or spontaneously fulfill one of his most persistent fantasies. He would argue the first if only because of the sheer unlikelihood of Arthur suddenly growing a sex drive after all the time Eames has known him, but then, he doubts the man would bother to knock if he wanted to kill him so Eames really has no idea what to think.

Arthur frowns at him in clear annoyance and shoves him back into the room with deceptive strength, following closely and letting the door click shut behind him.

“Arthur-” Eames attempts as he stumbles back, deeply confused, only to be cut off by a slightly slurred version of the point man’s usual stern voice.

“Shut up and get on the bed.”

Eames shuts up and gets on the bed, blinking at the sudden turn of events and trying to stop his body from reacting to the possibilities playing through his head.

Arthur reaches up and yanks at his tie until it’s loose enough to pull over his head and fling to the floor. Eames notices the already somewhat mused hair getting even messier and tries to burn the image of an adorably less-than-perfect Arthur into his head.

Arthur hadn't been wearing his suit jacket, and his dress shirt joins the tie on the floor in short order, leaving the point man bare from the waist up. Eames moves forward to try and help with the rest and Arthur glares at him, eyes pinning him in place.

“Stay.” Arthur adds unnecessarily, tugging off his shoes and socks and almost toppling to the floor at more than one point.

Eames really, desperately wants to keep quiet and let Arthur do whatever it is he’s decided to do. He also has known Arthur long enough to know how very utterly smashed the man is, despite his admirably steady appearance.

“Arthur, don’t misunderstand because there’s nothing I’d like more, but I’m not sure we should be doing this right now.” His conscience says carefully.

“Shut up, Eames.” Arthur tells him, sliding his pants to the floor and finally stepping toward the bed in nothing but black silk boxer-briefs.

Eames swallows and holds up his hands to try and get Arthur to stop for a second and listen to him, only to have them swatted aside like annoying insects as Arthur settles beside him and shoves the quilt back.

The point man grabs him, pulling him down and pushing him into the mattress with his body for leverage and Eames gasps at their bare chests sliding together. Arthur’s face looms over him inches away with the same disapproving frown he’s been wearing the whole time and Eames feels frozen behind a desperate desire to kiss it off him.

“Stay.” Arthur breaths the order at him, and then suddenly Arthur pulls back, sitting up and grabbing at the bedding around them and turning off the bedside light.

It’s whole minutes later as the warmth of the quilt surrounds him and Arthur settles half over top of him with his head tucked under Eames’s chin that the forger wonders if maybe he’d been reading the situation wrong after all.

“Arthur?” Eames whispers into the still darkness. “What’s going on?”

Arthur huffs against him, the breath spreading over the bare skin of his chest, and Eames shivers unconsciously at the sensation. The point man raises his head again just enough to lay an impossibly gentle kiss against Eames’s skin, a soft press of lips, before he settles back down and says drowsily “Sleep, Eames.”

It takes him a surprisingly short time to follow Arthur’s instructions.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and critique are as good as cookies and cake. Maybe even better :D


End file.
